Bonnie Carter said. She pulled her mass of long, brown hair behind her head and twisted it into a knot before securing it with a big hair clip. A chunk fell out right away, and she huffed but didn’t attempt to sort it out again. “At 8:01, if another woman is here and needs a bed for the night, you know I have to give it to her.” Bonnie was the manager on duty tonight at the women’s shelter where I’d been staying since I left Liam’s apartment. I’d gone out several days now, applying for jobs and volunteering at Helping Hands and doing other things of that nature, but I’d never had any concern about making it back before the cutoff. Not until today. “You can’t make an exception if you know I’m coming back?” I asked. I’d been offered some part-time work for a company that hosted events, Willamette Events and Party Planning. I’d be helping the caterers, clearing tables, taking out trash—you name it. If it needed to be done, I would be doing it. The best part about this job was that many of the events they ran were fundraisers for charities.
